Pandora's Box
by Nikki Nocturnal
Summary: In the midst of all the confusion, chaos, and pain hope remained at the bottom of the box. It was hers to keep safe forever. It was a reminder that life was once perfect. It was a blessing and a curse for hope is such a wicked thing.


**PROLOGUE**

_It was an autumn morn when I awoke into my dream land. Little did I know that my dream land would be filled with nightmares._

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I grew up on a large vineyard in Eastern Europe with my grandparents and father. My mother had pasted away several years before during child birth. My father had made a life long vow to never marry again. Instead, he made me, the vineyard, and his workers his main priority. That was the way it always had been and that was the way I had expected it to always be.

"Papa! Papa! Look at the vineyard! It's shining like the stars!" I yelled as I jumped on his bed. He groggily woke up and smiled at me. He lifted me up and we went over towards the balcony. It was day break and the vineyard indeed was glistening with morning dew as the sun peeked over the hillside.

"My dear Lexi, do you see this entire landscape? It will one day be yours. I pray that you will continue my business with a family of your own and pass it down through generation upon generation." He said to me.

"Papa, what's a generation?" I asked innocently.

"Ah ha, well now that's something you can ask your teachers at school."

"But Papa today's Sunday, I don't have school today."

"Then you'll have to wait till tomorrow to find out, no?"

He put me down and I ran off towards the kitchen before him. Grandmother's famous blueberry pancakes awaited us downstairs whilst the aroma spread throughout the house.

"Pancakes! Pancakes!" I chanted skipping into the kitchen.

"There's my favorite little granddaughter!" My grandmother said wiping her hands dry with a towel.

"But aren't I your only granddaughter gram-gram?" I said with a mouthful of pancakes.

"As far as I know." She laughed.

The rest of the morning went on as follows:

Grandfather and Grandmother told me stories of their younger years and playfully quarreled

Father went on his morning inspection through the vineyard

And I ran up to my room to play with my beyblade

My beyblade was the most fascinating thing in the world to me. It was also my most prized possession. It was unpainted and bare. My father had made it with his own two hands- well with his hands and some tools. It was almost flawless. There was a small dent on the side of the base where my father had accidentally dropped it while it was still hot. His fingers were bandaged for two weeks. It made me laugh thinking about how clumsy he must have looked. In spite of the dent, it was perfect. My father made it especially for me and that's all that mattered.

I held it up towards the sun. It glistened like a diamond (or at least it shined as brightly as steel could shine). I wanted to launch it so badly! However, being as young as I was, I wasn't permitted to.

"Three, two, one- let it rip!" I yelled throwing it up in the air.

I continued playing with the steel top until I fell asleep on the floor with it grasped tightly in the palm of my hand.

An hour and a half passed by during my nap.

An hour and a half of innocent bliss.

An hour and a half of my final dreams.

An hour and a half of heaven before awakening in hell.

The vineyard and the entire west wing of the house was on fire.

"Take this box and never let it go!" My father yelled past the roar of the flames. "Never lose what is left at the bottom of it!"

"But Papa-"

"I love you Lexi…" He kissed my forehead crying and tossed me out the window down into the arms of the firemen.

It felt like I was falling in slow motion. I stared back at my father and screamed out his name one last time. I sat there on the back of the ambulance truck staring into hell. Then suddenly I was compelled to open the box. I cried harder than I ever will in my entire life the moment I saw what laid at the bottom of that small box.

In the midst of all the confusion, chaos, and pain- hope remained at the bottom of the box.

…I was entrusted with_ Pandora's box._

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A/N: Well there it is. It's rather rushed and the ending it kinda cluttered in there but I think it gets the job done. I just want you to keep in mind that in the end, my character cries because she sees the bitbeast attached to her beyblade that her father made. She was too young to know the story of Pandora. The older version of herself is telling her past really in this prologue. She makes an allusion to Pandora's box because that's exactly what it is (as she comes to realize once she is older). The next official chapter will be better I promise. (and longer!) I'm just glad to put something out there again lol Please review or send me a message with some critique!

Much Love,

Nikki


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